


Utter Madness

by KitsuneKami



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 14:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20065855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitsuneKami/pseuds/KitsuneKami
Summary: Crowley muses over the centuries this feeling he knows demons should never, ever have.





	Utter Madness

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this some 10 years ago, and I felt like updating and posting this on here. My idea on a what if Crowley *really* struggles to come to terms with what he is feeling. 
> 
> This was written many years before the TV series, though I think its a bit compliant with it.

If I was to be completely honest with myself, I would say that I've gone completely mad. Completely unhinged at the seams, my mind unraveling at this very moment.

If I was to be completely honest with myself, I should just turn myself in now for a good torturous lashing and rid myself of this unbelievable madness.

For you see, I think I've fallen in love.

Or rather, I know I have fallen in love.

And that in itself, is a thought that no sane demon would ever entertain. That no self-respecting bastard like me should ever think of entertaining.

I began to realize this madness some centuries ago, thinking it was nothing. Thinking it was just the wine and the wonderfully soft golden light of a hundred chandeliers; the music waxing and waning, ebbing through gloriously dressed humanity and the one angel on this Earth.

And I, the one demon, seeing, watching him like I've never had before.

I gazed at him from a distance, sipping wine these French were so good at making; walking - no - stalking my counterpart among the dancing and merriment. His hair glowed golden under the magnificent lights, and I remember distinctly then, attempting to stop the direction this train of thought was going. Yet I couldn't then, nor will I ever now. My mind traced his cherubic features carefully, deliberately, watching intently his smiles that revealed the subtlest dimples; his equine nose, his cheeks tinted the slightest rose, his eyes.

Oh Lord, his eyes. I utter this blasphemy without remorse.

Those eyes that never changed throughout the centuries. Those eyes so pale you could swear they were grey as dusk, translucent as moonlight. Those eyes which saw right through you and in you; orbs which peered at you with such knowledge and naivete they could drive you mad.

I was an idiot to think that he would never see me. And when I locked eyes with him that night across the countless mortals, time stopped.

I've always thought this impossible. But it did. I stared at him with unguarded eyes, brown faltering into true yellow in that one eternal moment; unable to move or speak. I ignored everything, mortals called to me, spoke to me - I paid them no heed. For the first time, I was afraid, truly afraid to lose something. So scared to lose his gaze, and yet absolutely terrified; not knowing what those eyes told me, not daring to think what my eyes told him. I found myself lost in those twin seas of swirling blue and grey, caught drowning and never wanting to escape.

Then suddenly that moment was gone, as fleeting as that first glance. A woman had called to him, forcing his gaze away from mine and I desperately clung to that one moment. My heart pounded unbearably in my chest unable to understand this feeling.

I was terrified beyond words.

So afraid of what it was coiling in my stomach, I ran. I ran as far away as I can, my eyes burning with shame. These were thoughts of a man not a demon.

I must never show my eyes to him ever again.

I must never risk staring into those pale blue orbs without any sort of... barrier... ever again.

Those were my thoughts as I ran, away from him; hoping that I was also running away from my thoughts.

I was wrong of course. My thoughts hounded me day and night; unrelenting even in my dreams. I began to convince myself that it was the angel's fault, not mine. It was his doing and not my own. He was hoping to change me, make me defect back to his side. Then I began to think it had all along been mine, not his. They were testing me, waiting for me to make a mistake, and yet the punishment I expected never came.

Nothing made any sense. I couldn't tell anymore which was Up or Down, Right or Wrong, Love or Hate. Everything. This divine madness from but one stare, one true glimpse of that divine soul through eyes made of celestial blue.

I hid from him then. Traveled and buried myself in work, hoping to rid myself of this infatuation. I slept for as long as I can, wishing to forget, thinking that I could escape these thoughts in darkness. I managed to elude him for a little over a century - until the dreams came. When I awoke, it was a new world and I thought I had purged myself of this madness.

I was wrong.

Just one passing glance as we passed each other in London almost two centuries after that night in Paris. It was enough to have me undone. Was I so crazy to think that those eyes told how happy he was to see me? Was it just my furtive imagination that told me they were bluer than I last remembered, brighter than the too many times I've dreamt of them? I had shifted my tinted glasses then, hoping that the cloudy blue glass was enough. It had been only luck that I stumbled upon this curious man who made them, thinking it had some sort of medicinal value I really did not care about.

I only wanted to conceal my eyes; shield them from an angel my heart dared desire.

The glasses gave me some comfort. They gave me the courage to talk to him again. We met more frequently since then; I must have been crazy to be so carelessly playing with fire. I was terrified; waiting to be burned and swallowed whole, and yet so, so entranced by this dancing flame. I craved for it, longed for it.

This fire grew bigger, brighter over the years. The games I played with it grew bolder, ignoring all fear and terror in my heart. Decades slipped by. My heart grew fonder; his eyes bluer, my glasses darker. Emotions in my chest welled stronger and stronger. I was so deathly afraid that I would burst, and all these centuries of want and pining, centuries of increasing madness would spill forth and scatter for all the world to see.

If I was going to be completely honest with myself, I should say all these things to him.

If I was going to be completely honest with myself, I should confess to the angel and hope to rid myself of this madness.

But I will not.

A demon should not have honesty.  
A demon should not long for the divine.  
A demon should not love.

He can only be completely and utterly mad.


End file.
